


Carrying a Rather Heavy Torch

by mikasasha



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Alternate Universe - 1920s, Gangs, Homophobia, Homophobic Language, Internalized Homophobia, Multi, NON BINARY HANJI NON BINARY HANJI NON BINARY HANJI NON BINA, Robbery, lots of confusing 1920s slang srry, sorry so many ppl die........ l8r tho... l8r, this revolves hEAVILY around mikasasha
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-10-10
Updated: 2015-12-12
Packaged: 2018-04-25 16:54:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 5
Words: 8,108
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4968829
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mikasasha/pseuds/mikasasha
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Moll: a common slang term used in the 1920s in reference to a woman that was infatuated or romantically involved with a gangster.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Don't know from nothing.

**Author's Note:**

> HI i promise im gonna actually try and update this one ;0 we will see how that turns out lmao
> 
> though the beginning may be a bit confusing, this is NOT GENDERBEND. mikasa is in fact a female in this. i mean ull find that out like 0.3 seconds into the story but still i do not want people to get discouraged within the first few sentences. give me a chance,,
> 
> i need to say, no this is NOT based on or influenced by AtSiT (All the Stars in Texas)! it seems like it is but it is NOT considering i have been working on this fanfic for almost a year now, far before i knew AtSiT even existed. plus that takes place in the 1930s + its really sad??? i kinda wanna go with a more adventurous and uplifting story with this. i mean ya people die but still. also AtSiT has its own familial bonds to the main characters that the author has created, and mine does not. there are tbh a lot of qualities that AtSiT and this fic do not share. p much the only thing they share is robberies. but AtSiT is v good far better than anything i could ever write i suggest u go read it
> 
> but first read my fic,, ty

I think it's safe to say that I hate men. Always have, ever since I could remember.

I hate men when they honk at me on the sidewalk when they drive by. I hate men when they slap my behind or rub my curves when I walk down the street. I hate men when they give me dirty looks and talk about how much I don't deserve to vote. I hate men when they reach under my skirt at any given chance. I hate men when they threaten about how easy they can take me then and there when I deny them a drink or date. I hate men when they bark about how much they want to beat me up, but have no bite 'because I'm a girl'. I hate men when they chase me out of a dirty speakeasy because 'girls don't belong here'. I hate men when they used 'girl' as an insult, as if being anything but a man is an abomination.

Sometimes, there's nothing I can think of that I hate more than men.

Well.  _Most_ men.

There's a man- a man I not only tolerate, but dream about. _Mikasa Ackerman_. Oh, that name sends chills up my spine.

Mikasa Ackerman is a gangster whose name is printed on every paper from New York to Los Angeles. Currently, he's the most wanted person in the whole goddamn _country_ , the nation's biggest rebel. But no one had a face to the name. Papers said he only stole at night, and murdered anyone who saw him. The only way police know it's the same guy is that at every place he stole from, he left a note on the back of a dollar bill saying the same thing every time- "Mikasa Ackerman has bested you". The thing? There were never any fingerprints on it. There were never any stray hairs left behind, there were never any shoe prints, never any witnesses, never any clothing fibers- not a damn clue left behind.

Apparently police are searching all over the goddamn States looking for any sort of paperwork with the name 'Mikasa Ackerman', and are so far turning up with jack shit. The only thing they know about Mikasa Ackerman is that he's a man who is dedicated, cunning, and a hell of a shot. He's a man that does whatever he fancies, and thinking about the sheer amount of power he has and everything he'd do to protect me if he loved me makes me quite hot under the collar, however embarrassing that may be.

"Hey curvy, hand me another!" A patron hollers from across the bar, and, back faced to him, I grimace. I hate men when they yell obnoxiously, and when they call me 'curvy' like my body is the only notable thing about me.

Mikasa would _never_  treat me like this.

Regardless though- not without rolling my eyes first, however- I put on a smile and turn around, strolling over stupidly to grab his cup. I wink at him and turn around to fill it back up with some giggle water. Like clockwork, I slide it down back to him and hear another sleazy, inebriated man half ready to upchuck ask for another cocktail.

Sometimes I regret working at an all female staff speakeasy- should've known the men would be absolute pigs here, too. But then I think about how easily it helps me get by and how much I enjoy the loud jazz serving as wonderful background noise as I smell the incredible scent of alcohol after an exhilarating performance on stage ranging from a can can dance with my coworkers to a gentle solo in a flapper girl dress that hurt me after wearing too long (because those were made to hide curves- and mine are too far beyond taming).

After filling the second man's glass, I expect to hear another ossified man soon from the counter begging for a Planter's, but instead I hear an alto of a voice mutter a weak and seemingly irritated 'excuse me'. I turn to the edge of the counter in which I heard the voice, locking eyes with a pretty Asian lady with a short, choppy head of black hair slightly covered by a suede fedora. I definitely haven't seen many girls in something other than a dress, but this flapper of a woman's sporting a sharp pinstripe suit adorned with a scarlet neck tie, which flattens any curves she might have. But it suited this woman rather well- made her very pleasing to the eye.

To my eye.

I strut to the edge of the counter and rest on my elbows, breathing in the scent of the woman's cigar. "Howdy, doll face." I smile. The pretty Asian lady, however, does not seem interested or changed by my position or pet name at all. "Ya stumble in here lost or're ya just queer?" Again, surprisingly, no change.

"I'm just looking for Science. I'd be delighted if you could take me to them."

I'm taken aback. To come in here and ask for one of the filthiest criminals residing in Los Angeles is just pure asinine. How does this woman even know who (or, more importantly, where) Science is?

"W-" I laugh nervously. "Whoa, whoa, doll face, careful whatcha wish for, huh?" This woman's too pretty to wind up dead upstairs. So I try to change the subject. "Uh- I ain't ever seen ya before! Sit, have some a Bronx, baby girl. I'm Sasha- uh- how 'bout ya gimme a name ta call yer pretty face?"

"My name doesn't matter." She grumbles. "And I need to see Science. Now, preferably. Just give me a direction and I'll be out of your pretty hair."

I bite my lip, and my hands begin to tangle together. I don't want this girl dead, simply because she has no clue what the goddamn she's doing! "Now, I don't want ya gettin' hurt-"

"I don't think it's any of your business whether I get hurt or not."

"Doll face, yer much too pretty to be lettin' that head a yers get blown ta goddamn _smithereens_  if Science ain't too fond of you."

"My relation to Science is _also_  none of your business."

"It sure as hell is! Now sit 'nd have a drink, and pretend you don't even know where Science is, because I ain't ever seen ya before, which mean y'sure as hell ain't no Dead Man, and ya ain't no friend a theirs. Ya best believe me when I say I am doin' this fer yer own good!" I harshly whisper. I cann't _believe_  this woman. Who the hell comes in here and starts asking for _Science_  of all people- especially when you're _obviously_  not a part of the Dead Men that run the joint?!

"Listen, babe." She leans closer on the elbow whose hand wasn't occupied by her cigar. "You aren't any guard of mine. You don't say what's best for me, nor do you look out for my best interests, because you don't know me and I don't particularly care to know you. So what happens to me is none of your fucking business. Not to mention, if you don't show me where Science is _right now_ , I've got a sawed off shot in my waistband and a Tommy in my car. Now in the next five minutes, I want to see Science, or my three rounds are easy as hell to pull out, and my other thirty are just a quick jog to the car." She stands back up straight and takes a drag of her cigar. "Doll face."

I blanch. He dare she? How _dare_  she? Come into _my_  speakeasy and threaten me when I'm trying to protect her! "Now, ma'am I ain't appreciatin' yer sour attitude one bit, especially when I'm just-" She reaches her free hand under the tails of her coat, making a motion for the back part of her waistband. "- goin' to take you to Science right now! Come and follow me, doll face." I chuckle with a cold sweat on my neck. I swear to God, my yap is a ticking time bomb- will get me killed someday if I don't learn how to control the damn thing.

She pulls her hand from her back and tips her hat with a content and mischievous smile that makes me feel something warm in my stomach and gives me the slightest of pink on my cheeks- despite me being scared out of my goddamn mind

"You're a kind woman, Sasha." I don't want to dwell on the fact the praise from her makes me a bit more flustered. I simply call for Petra to fill in my position at the counter, telling her I needed to take care of something.

The brisk stroll to the back of the speakeasy and up the creaky stairs to Science's office feels like an eternity as I feel the pretty Asian lady's eyes on me and knowing there's a gun on her and in her car. Seeing that she almost risked pulling the sawed shot on me in public, she obviously wouldn't have a problem at all with pulling the trigger in private. When we reach the door, I turn back around to her, noticing she has a good two inches on me height wise. My brows crease, I bite my lip hard, and I feel myself get even more nervous as I watch her take another drag of her cigar.

"Y'sure ya wanna do this? Ya don't gotta stick around, it's real easy to just go back down and leave."

I try so hard to convince her, I really do.

"Open the door." She says with a mouthful of smoke, followed by a blow. I take a deep breath and knock on Science's door.

"Come in!" A jolly, goofy voice rings from inside.

I crack it open just enough to poke my head in. "Um, Science-"

Science laughs, tilting back their head slightly. "Sasha, I already told you, you don't have to call me Science! Just call me-"

" _Science_ ," I say again, harshly, staring at their brown eyes and the glare from the light in their glasses. They seem to understand I wasn't saying their name for a reason. Their smile fades, and is replaced with an intrigued yet somewhat concerned face. They take their feet off of their desk and put them on the floor to sit up straight. "Y'have someone lookin' for ya."

I see a surprised look in their eye before looking back to the pretty Asian lady and creaking open Science's door with a nervous look on my face. I'm about to warn her again, but before I can, she walks in Science's office like she owns the goddamn place. I can't tell if her confidence is admirable or just plain stupid.

Closing the door behind me, I hear Science cackle. "Holy goddamn shit! _Look_  what the cat dragged _in_!" They get up from their desk to go around to the front of it, bracing their hands on it to stand face to face with the pretty woman. "How many years has it been, dear?"

They... know each other?

"I'm not here for a reunion." She says with a monotone, somewhat cold voice. "And I think we both know that."

"Oh, dear, lighten up a bit, would you? It's been ages!"

"Just give them back, Science."

Science clicks their tongue. "You _both_  know my name, why on this god forsaken planet do you both keep calling me Science?"

"She knows your name?" The pretty lady and I ask at the same time, flabbergasted.

"Yes, yes! You both know my name!" They laugh. "And I know both of yours." They smile at the pretty lady with a taunting look. "Though Sasha doesn't mind, I know _you_  do."

"Don't say my name, Hanji." It isn't a plea, isn't kind. It's a threat.

Hanji just laughs. "Don't worry dear, I know, I know!"

My curiosity's piqued.

"Whatever. Enough delay." The pretty lady says in a very annoyed voice. "Just give them, and I'll leave."

"And do what with them?"

"That's none of your business."

Hanji gives her a look. "It most certainly _is_  my business! Even if I were to give them to you- which I won't, since you _obviously_  don't have my money if you don't have your hands full of briefcases- any blood you shed would be on _my_  hands, and you know how I feel about killing. Only if absolutely necessary."

"Well, I can always kill you and your pretty bitch over by the door right now, take them anyway, and hop out that window that's only two stories and leads into that back alley."

I bristle. What the hell did she just call me? What the fuck did she just threaten to do? Did she forget who she was talking to? A person with a body count higher than the number of people I knew- that's who!

"But, darling, you're forgetting something!" Hanji smiles, and reaches one of their hands to the back waistband of their black business pants to pull out a .45 in a time span of about a second. "I'm a much quicker shot than you!" The barrel is pointed unwavering and directly at the woman's head. "And Sasha knows how to clean up a hell of a mess."

Fear strikes me as I saw a gun I knew was going to get pulled anyway, and remember that I'm actually a _part_  of this.

I'm always a part of shit like this.

"Isn't that right, dear?" They call to me, eyes staying pinned on the pretty Asian woman.

"Ah- yeah." I say, my hands behind my back.

The woman breathes hard through her nose. "Didn't peg you for a part of the Dead Men." She snarls at me behind her shoulder, giving me a less than happy look.

"Ah-" I struggle and goosebumps raise on my arms. "Y- Yeah."

"I'll ask again." Hanji smiles sweetly. "Just _what_  are you going to do with those guns you want so bad?" I hate being in the middle of things like this- disputes where guns and lives were on the line. More fun to imagine than to live.

"Business." She grumbles.

Hanji sighs melodramatically. "You never were open with me. It hurts- hurts my heart! Please, simply enlighten me what 'business' means to you."

She points her thumb behind her shoulder as a gesture towards me. "Not with her in here."

Hanji laughs. "Little old Sasha? Oh, she won't tell a soul!" It wasn't untrue. Not like I have many friends to tell in the first place.

The woman growls. "She won't with a bullet in her head."

Hanji laughs, and I just about faint. Why is Hanji _laughing_?!

"Tell you what. I know Sasha would positively fall in love with you if you brought her with you to wherever you're going to do whatever you're going to do." I almost burst out into yells, but they beat me to talking. "I'll give you the guns, no questions asked, no money rquired, if you bring Sasha with you, and finally make a friend, huh?"

" _What_?!" Both the pretty girl and I scream at the same time.

"Are you kiddin' me, Hanji?!" Everything about my voice is harsh, because I'm not only scared out of my fucking wits, but absolutely _livid_.

"No. Why would I be kidding?"

"Because I'm a human being! You can't just bet my life like that!"

"Why not?"

"Because I'm not yer property! I'm not somethin' you can just give away!"

"Sasha, if she makes this deal, _you're going_." The look Hanji gives me has me near pissing myself.

"Well then Sasha, it's your lucky day." The pretty Asian lady says angrily. "Because no deal."

Hanji smiles. "Then how will you get guns, my dear?"

"I'll find a way."

"Babe, hate to break it to you, but papa Levi can't get guns for you."

"I don't Levi to find guns." The girl seemed offended. "I can do things myself."

Hanji laughs again, but at this point their laugh is just mocking me. But I trust this woman not to make the deal.

"Yeah, trust me, the papers make sure I know." The statement doesn't register, I'm too busy writhing in anger and a sickeningly small bit of fear. When did I get so desensitized to having my life on the line? "But how on Earth can you get guns?"

"Somehow."

Hanji smiles, and pets the girls cheek with their Colt. "Just take the offer. It's a good one. Honestly, Sasha behaves well, good cook, funny jokes-"

"Don't treat me as if I can't understand you- as if I'm some sort a _pet_!" I interrupt them. They're listing off qualities, as if selling a dog!

Both of them ignore me.

"Why do you even want her with me?"

"Because you hardly talk to anyone that doesn't end up dead five minutes later. I care about you, you know! Plus, trust me, I know she'll like you."

"Why do you _really_  want her with me?"

Hanji sighs. "Does it matter? I'm giving you your guns, _and_  a friend!"

"It matters because I know you don't give charity."

"Not to _you_. I'll be honest, I'm doing this for Sasha. Girl saved my life back in '19, and I'm hoping you'll help save hers."

My heart stops.

"Hanji, is my life in danger?"

The pretty Asian lady looks like she's mulling it over.

" _Hanji_?"

This isn't how it's supposed to be happening!

"Hey, I'm right here!"

She's actually considering it.

" _Hey_!" I scream, slamming my foot down on the creaky wood, which results in a loud yell from the floorboards and startled looks from the two I want to clock right in the _face_! Hanji lowers their arm, but the pretty lady makes no attempt to grab her own gun. "Now you two listen _up_! Yer gun issue has nothin' to do with me, 'specially since I don't even like guns much! It's pure coincidence that  _I'm_  the one who dragged ya up here, missy, and now look what ya've done! I am _not_  goin' to be a part of your dispute, 'cause I don't belong in it and 'cause I like my life just fine, and I don't think I'm in need of any savin'! Now find somethin' else to settle with so I can get back down to my job!"

They both stare at me for a while. I probably look like a wreck- what with a red face, puffed cheeks, fists balled in my dress, eyebrows drawn into a very angry stance.

The pretty Asian lady turns back to Hanji. "Deal."

I'm shocked, then just absolutely _angry_.

" _Excuse me_?! Y'have no goddamn say in what happens to me- I just barely met ya! I'm not goin' _anywhere_  with ya, because I-"

And then Hanji's gun is pointed at me, and everything in me comes to a screeching halt.

"Sasha, I care about you. You saved my life, and now I am saving yours. People are mistaking you for me from afar, Erwin heard, and _nothing_  about that is good for you. I was trying to figure out how to fix the situation, and now that this opportunity has come up, I'm not going to let it slip away. So you're going to follow her, help her, and make friends other than me and Petra. So go with her, you won't regret it. Trust me. I _care_ about you."

I feel nothing but fear, and for a long time, I'm just quiet.

It makes no sense. How could people be mistaking me for Hanji? Hanji's lean, has glasses, has different body language completely. What's similar between us? Height? Brown hair in a ponytail? That's it. I'm much curvier than them, wear completely different clothes. Hanji wouldn't be caught dead in a dress, and I wouldn't be caught dead in a button up and suspended business pants. It doesn't make any sense at all.

But there's a gun in my face.

But Hanji wouldn't kill me, would they? They just said they care about me; we're friends!

But then again, how many of Hanji's friends' blood have I cleaned up?

"Okay."


	2. Beating gums.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> warning: a little homophobic language in this chapter

I'm still pissed.

 _Beyond_ pissed.

Not only am I still angry I had to go with this complete stranger I _still_  don't even know the name of, but I wasn't allowed to change out of my flapper dress, and it kind of hurts.

But she has a _really_ nice car.

It hurts to say, but it's the most incredible car I've ever witnessed in real life. A gorgeous, topless golden bug with a thick interior that's almost orgasmic to touch. We're about thirty minutes into the road trip of wherever the fuck we're going- I have no clue- before I even attempt to or want to speak.

"Nice car."

Short. Short enough to be just the right amount of snippy, and short enough to state what was on my mind the second I saw the thing.

"Thanks." She says. I admit her voice was very nice, even though very monotone. "A bitch to get my hands on."

I laugh under my breath. "Yeah, must've cost ya an arm 'nd a leg."

"In a sense."

"What dealership y'get it from?"

"No dealership."

"Friendly sale?"

"I suppose you could say that."

I furrow my brow and look over at her, her slanted eyes focused on the road. "Why ya bein' so cryptic?"

"What do you mean?"

"All, 'in a sense' and 'I suppose'. It sound awfully suspicious." After she doesn't say anything, I look back at the road. "How much y'pay fer it?"

"Nothing."

My eyes widen, and I whip my torso to look at her for any signs of lying. "Yer lyin'."

"I swear, I didn't pay anything for this car."

"No shit!" I can't _believe_  it! This girl got a golden bug for _free_! She either has incredible social skills or knows how to suck dick well. "Someone _gave_  this to ya? No charge?"

"Well, sort of."

"Oh my Lord! I can't imagine a thing! 'Here, I want to give ya one of the nicest cars ta grace the Earth; sleek, pristine, not a goddamn scratch or dent. Just take the thing'!"

She chuckles quietly. "Most definitely didn't go like that."

I wave around my hand as I speak, unable to stay still while talking about this "Then how the hell did it go down? It's the only way I can imagine somethin' like that happenin'!"

"Well, it happened more with a couple fingers under the hood, a couple wires rearranged, and a lot of shouts as I drove away."

I'm quiet for a moment, kind of confused, before it sinks in.

"Is this. Is this a _stolen car_?"

"Don't act so surprised."

"Oh my God. Oh my God!" I lift my hands to my head, baffled. "Who did Hanji _send_  me with?"

"Someone who's gonna protect you, that's for sure."

"How do I know? How do I know yer gonna be my knight in shiny armor when I don't even know yer _name_?" I'm on the verge of angry tears, the surrealty of the situation fading and reality getting its hand ready for a bitch slap. "I don't even know yer name, and y'just swept me up away from my entire life! I just left everything behind so I avoided bein' shot by my only friend ta go with a complete stranger ta _God knows where_ , and I-" My hands are shaking. My knee can't stop bouncing. "I just-"

"Hey, don't- you'll be fine. I promise you'll be fine."

"How would you know?! You don't even know me!"

"I know enough to know you're tolerable. Why do you think I agreed to protect you in the first place? Just to spite you?"

I'm hesitant to speak.

"Well. Yeah."

"Don't be ridiculous. That little tangent you went on explained enough to me. You aren't someone I would dislike, which is near a miracle. You're confident, you'll stand up for yourself and make sure you're taken care of. You care about yourself."

"I suppose." I rub my hand through my hair that isn't pulled into a ponytail and breath a heavy sigh. I look down to the floor of the car, and see a newspaper with a familiar headline.

_"Ackerman Strikes Again In the Dead of Night!"_

I blush a bit, forgetting all about being upset, and pick it up to read it again. Mikasa always cheers me up, even in the worst, such as when I'm driving to the middle of where the fuck with a girl I know nothing about.

I had already read the article, of course- I read the paper everyday, just to see what he's up to, what people have to say, what damage he's done, and how clueless police are because of how smart and cunning he is. When this article came out, he'd killed another- a fattened, balding bank teller that came in at the wrong time. It gave me chills. But somehow, sickeningly, not any bad ones. Funny how this kind of stuff riles me when reading about it, but gives me the heebie-jeebies when actually living it. I sigh again, but with a smile, grazing my eyes over the words.

"What's that?" The girl asks, and I'm quite upset about being disturbed while thinking about Mikasa.

"You should know, it was on the floor of yer car." I pause. "Oh, sorry. 'Spose it's not _yer_  car, huh."

She ignores that.

"It's that newspaper article."

I look at it again, cheeks going pink once more. "Sure is." I take a sharp intake of breath. "Oh, Mikasa's quite a man, ain't he? Really knows how to get what he wants."

The girl sounds like she's holding back a laugh before she speaks again, which is definitely weird, considering how blank she seems to be. "Yeah, I guess."

I ignore it, not thinking much of it in the first place. "Yeah." I agree. "He's so strong, so _dreamy_. Not a day of my life goes by I don't think 'bout that man. Not a real stickler fer talkin' ta guys, but wow, what I wouldn't give to meet 'im."

She bursts out laughing, and my cheeks flame while I think about how _weird_  it is to hear. "Okay, okay, yuck it up at the girl who carries a torch for a guy- a criminal- she ain't never met! I get it, I get it!"

She laughs harder. "No-" She manages to fit in between breaths. "No- that's not what- I'm not-" She laughs louder. "Oh, Christ!" I groan, my cheeks bright. "I see why Hanji wanted you with me!"

"Why's that? So you can laugh at me?" I mumble.

She responds by laughing more.

"Wow, you are definitely something."

"Leave me alone!" I hit her arm halfheartedly with the article, then look at it again. "Can ya blame me? He's so brave. I bet he's so attractive, too." I ignore the girl's laughs that are growing more. "And his handwritin' is so nice- nicest I ever seen on a guy."

"Don't you mind that-" She really struggles to get out the next word through laughs. " _he_  has killed people?"

I giggle. "That makes it _better_. It shows he don't let _anyone_  get in his way. He'll stop at nothin' to make sure he achieves his goal, and that just gives me chills to think about."

She snickers. "Makes you hot under the collar, does _he_?"

"Oh, like ya wouldn't believe." I sigh. "I dream 'bout that man day 'nd night."

She laughs again. The more I hear it, the nicer it sounds to me, but I don't dwell too much on that fact.

"About what? What do you imagine, since you _obviously_  don't know what _he_  looks like."

I look at her again. "Why d'ya keep doin' that?"

"Doing what?"

"Puttin' emphasis on 'he'."

I notice that she bites her tongue to keep from laughing. "No reason."

"No reason my ass! Really, why d'ya keep doin' it?"

"I just find it funny is all."

"Why?"

"Because, you don't know if Mikasa's a boy or not."

I scoff. "'Course I do! Ladies don't rob banks and shoot people 'tween the eyes. Ladies aren't so rugged or brave. And I wouldn't be stuck on no lady, I ain't no Molly Dyke."

"A _Molly_  Dyke? Didn't take you for the passive type." She has a difficult time talking, trying not to laugh, and driving at the same time.

"Whatever!" I screech, thoroughly and completely embarrassed. I put the paper back down on the floor of the car, and stare back up at the long stretch of road that's incredibly barren of cars.

"Will y'ever tell me yer name?" I ask after a long period of quiet.

She snorts, a silly and goofy sound that makes my chest warm. "I don't think I need to."

"Well, Lord, you don't needa, but it'd be appreciated." I grumble, frustrated. Why couldn't she just tell me her name?

"Oh believe me, you'll find out. Sometime. Most likely soon."

I sigh, and we go back to silence. I decide to just look at the article some more, wishing I was with Mikasa rather than this girl.

After about six minutes, she speaks up.

"Sorry." It's kind of quiet, and back to monotone.

I look over to her, confused.

She huffs lightly, as if bothered I couldn't quite tell what she meant. "For, you know. Laughing. And messing up your life. Or something."

I blow air through my teeth and click my tongue. "Well, stranger, it's in the past. Wasn't much of a life to mess up anyhow. However, I _am_  grateful fer the apology fer laughin' at me. Ain't terribly nice to laugh at someone fer a crush."

"That wasn't why, but. Whatever you want, Sasha." She has a smile in her voice, but not on her face.

"Then how come?"

"You'll understand, eventually." 

I scoff. "Oh, eventually? I'll understand when I'm old 'nough? Will Ma and Pa come together an' tell me all about it?"

She chuckles. "See?" She looked over at me the first time that whole drive, and only now I realize how colorful black eyes can be. "You'll be fine." She looks back at the road, and I don't fully acknowledge my thirst for her gaze to be on me again. "Making light out of a situation like yours isn't too easy."

I scoff. "Never has been."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> boy do i love me some dramatic irony
> 
> also this was to establish a lil background and if it felt like a filler it kinda was but this felt a little necessary fr like. them gettin used to each other kinda and to sweeten some of sashas absolute saltiness
> 
> sorry if its out of character or sucks ;0
> 
> follow me on tumblr bc im cool (not really)
> 
> http://mikasasha.god.jp/  
> @memekasasha


	3. A big cheese caper and a ducky fish.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> here i at
> 
> and btw why sasha is so calm this chapter around is because pretty much she just stopped giving a shit because she recognizes the fact she doesnt really have much of a life to throw away

Frail fingers clutch my shoulder and shake gently, and all I can think is that they feel wonderful.

"Sasha, wake up."

I open my eyes carefully, and notice everything is dark except for the headlights of the car bouncing off of another slick looking vehicle. My sight is sensitive, so I squint, and look over to the person who owned the hand shaking me. I hadn't even realized I'd fallen asleep.

Oh. Her.

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing, I just need you to come do something with me."

"Why?"

"I can't leave you in the car alone when I do this. It's important."

She glances up and behind me, and I turn around to see what she's looking at. A bazaar with seemingly poor upkeep is behind me, only a short sidewalk length away. With this, I recognize we're parked on a street, buildings lining up and down the strip and the occasional parked car with no occupant. I can't see anyone, and everything is quiet except for the buzzing of streetlamps and our motor.

"What time is it?"

"About one in the morning."

I look back at her. She's putting on some leather gloves. "One in the mornin'?" I furrow my brow. "What're ya doin' here?"

She looks me in the eyes for a second time, which sends chills up my spine, and smiles the tiniest bit. "My job. C'mon, let's get a wiggle on."

With that, she unbuckles her seat belt and exits the car. I pause for a second before scrambling to do the same. I step out of the bug with shaky legs still catching up from sleep, and follow her to where she went in an alley beside the bazaar. Out of the handkerchief pocket on her suit, she pulls out a packet of tools and begins picking the lock on the back entrance door of the bazaar.

"Hey, hey!" I harshly whisper to her. "What are you _doin'_?!"

"Again, my job." A few more clicks, and she has the door open. "Let's go." She says quietly as she packs up her tiny set of tools.

"Well, what are we doin'?" I'm just hoping to God she isn't doing what I think she is.

"Getting some dough."

I sigh exasperatedly. Of course.

Fucking thanks a lot, Hanji.

"Jus' don't get me pinched."

We walk in, and the inside is a cluttered, quaint little shop that smells of nicotine. There are wind ornaments and unlit lanterns hanging from the ceiling and glassy knick knacks decorating lines of shelves. Boxes of incense and necklaces with gaudy amulets hanging from jewelry trees on different display tables, and the front counter smothered in boxes of cigarettes, cigars, gum, and a dusty cash register.

She walks behind the counter immediately, and grabs a couple boxes of cigars. Hm, so that's how she smokes cigars. Can't think of any shops that would sell a girl some.

"Grab what you want, just don't touch anything you won't bring with you. You'll leave fingerprints."

Her voice isn't even a whisper anymore!

I bite my lip and look away from her to drag my gaze around at the different display tables and, _wow_  that's a really pretty necklace, what with its small red ruby hanging daintily. "No, I'm fine."

She chortles, and I look at her again. She just laughed, but her face is sans a smile. "That's a lie. Really, grab what you want. Owner of this place is a goddamn bluenose."

I giggle. "Owner of a _bazaar_  is a bluenose?"

This time, she gets a smile. Her face still pointed downwards, she looks up and with those pretty eyes and chuckles. That sight gives me jitters for some reason, and makes my cheeks warm.

"Just grab that necklace you want." She says with her cute smile as she puts two boxes of cigars in the back of her waistband and moves further to the cash register.

Well. Not like I have anything to lose.

Hesitant to take my eyes off of her, I turn to the necklace and quickly scuttle towards it, snatching it off the tree that I make an effort not to touch and looking at it closely in the palm of my hand. I'm happily entranced, staring at the way it glitters in the moonlight streaming in from the bazaar windows, when I hear a loud and startling _bang!_  and the clanking of change.

"Jesus Lord!" I yell, putting a hand over my chest and looking over to her. She has a bat in her hands, and the cash register is dented and open. Her smile is gone as she looks at me. "What the hell was that?!" I whisper, realizing I just yelled in the middle of a robbery.

"Needed to get in there somehow." She grabs a burlap sack labeled 'POTATOES' from behind the counter and begins to stuff it with bills. "You best hope your yell didn't attract anyone."

Yeah, I do.

It's a few more minutes of me staring at the necklace before I notice there's no more sound coming from the cash register. I look up to her, and notice she's staring at me.

My cheeks flame up. Wow. She's really pretty.

We stare at each other for a long time. A really long time. She clears her throat. "Do you need help putting that on?"

"Uh- yeah. It's hard ta. Y'know. Do it all by myself."

She walks from behind the counter, and the way she walks is incredibly elegant for a woman in a suit.

"Here." I hand her the necklace when she reaches me, and turn around.

The metal is cool when she drapes it over my head and onto my collarbone- cool enough to give me goosebumps. I lift my ponytail so she can hook it properly, and as she's fastening the clasp, her fingers brush the back of my neck, and my breath hitches while my heart begins to beat faster. I don't particularly think about why.

I don't want to.

"There." She whispers once she's done, and I don't know why she's whispering now, but I like the chills her whisper gives me.

I let my ponytail fall and turn around to look at here. "Thanks."

Either I have shit vision, or her cheeks are pink too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ta da it is short and not particularly spectacular but its all for u.......
> 
> follow me ;0 im sure u know my tumblr stuff by now


	4. Session in a Breezer.

Maybe I'm a filthy criminal. A dirty filthy criminal who was fated to end up with a robber one way or another. A dirty filthy criminal who thinks everyday about getting into a murderer's trousers.

Okay. So I'm _definitely_ a filthy criminal.

Maybe that's why I'm not as upset with this whole going-with-a-complete-stranger-and-robbing-places thing as I probably should be. Pretty sick I get a twisted sense of adrenaline from this. But my small bit of fear balances that out, right? At least I'm not the _worst_  I could be.

After she grabs what she feels is enough, she snatches out a dollar and tells me to wait in the bug, where I sit for a couple minutes before she comes trotting out. In the bug, the back is loaded with valuable looking items and sacks of money (I didn't scream when she bust open the safe like she did the register, which was a miracle since she didn't warn me. _Again_.) more boxes of cigars, and even some dapper clothes, along with the guns the girl had originally come to Hanji for.

Breaking our long streak of silence, I look over to her neutral face pointed at the road. "Were are we goin', exactly?"

"Nevada."

That was unexpected. "Nevada? The hell's up there?"

She thinks about what to say for a bit, before choosing, "Acquaintances."

"Thought Hanji said you didn't talk to no one but them."

"Hanji doesn't know shit about me anymore."

Speaking about Hanji gets me curious. "How ya know Hanji, anyway? Soundin' like you two go back."

She scoffs. "Kind of a long story."

"Lookin' like we got time."

She blows air noisily through her nose and takes a sharp intake of breath immediately after. "Well, you're right. Hanji and I go back, that's for sure. But, I don't remember them too much. That was the first time I'd seen them since I was fifteen."

"Why so bitter towards 'em then? They ain't family, obviously."

"Well, no. Not blood. But I trusted them, they helped me feel a little safer."

I furrow my brows. "That makes even less sense as ta why ya hate them so much."

"They left. Left my brother and I. Left our friend. Left everyone." Her face looked angrier. "Except for Erwin. Of course they'd never leave him." She scoffs again. "Love is stupid."

"And _how_." I say, facing the road again. "How'd you know 'em, though?"

"They were a part of my gang, back in '15, and years before that. Years before I was born. They really had an impact on my brother and I, had a huge role in keeping our spirits up after something that happened in '10. Then they just. Left. Left to go to Angeles, start the Dead Men, and become a gang leader. Worked out well, I see."

"Sure did. Ain't no gangster in Angeles who don't know who Hanji is."

"Yeah. But who cares." She still sounds bitter, even when she tries to play it off. "What about you? They said something about you saving their life?"

Oh boy.

"Oh boy." I blow a large puff of air out my mouth. "That is a _long_  story."

"Looking like we got time." She says, and I look back at her to find her smiling at her own joke.

I throw my head back and laugh, because that's a real cute sight to see her so proud of her own joke.

"Well, I ain't never been wrapped up in gangs before '19. Wrapped up in lots a men, lots a shit jobs and gross deeds just to scrape enough dough ta get me by since my folks gave me the boot in '17, but not gangs. One day I was walkin' to a job when I passed by a dirty alley and heard kinda like a yelpin' noise. I got real scared, but I guess I've always been a bit of a masochist, so I look down the alley to find a dirty lookin' person and a big huge guy with a gun pointed right at 'em. I just freeze up. I ain't never seen somethin' like this, I didn't know what to do. And I ain't the smartest, so there I stood, wrackin' my brain for what seemed like forever as I watched that man talk right in Hanji's face, all up and spittin' and stuff. It was just plain gross. So, 'course my dumb ass just goes 'I'm gettin' the police' real loud right at the top of the alley. But it gets his attention alright. And, Lord, he stared at me for what felt like _decades_. Then, 'fore I know it, his gun is pointed at _me_! Then my instincts kicked in real hard, and super quick I knocked over some bins right next to me and straight booked it down the sidewalk before he could get a bullet out. I heard it though, as I was runnin'. The bullet, I mean. _Damn_ , that was scary. I was headed for the police, but then I heard the clangin' of trash cans and then some object skiddin' on the ground, so I look back and I see the guy half on the sidewalk writhing in pain from runnin' into them trash bins I knocked down, and right on the edge of it I see his gun. And then I go runnin' to the gun before he can snatch it and I point it right at his head. Threatened to shoot 'im if he didn't leave, and he called bullshit- which was true, but still. So I shot 'im in the shoulder to prove my point. Thinkin' back on it, I kinda wish I shot his dick. But I shot his shoulder, and I held 'im at gunpoint 'till he got in his car and drove right off. Hanji stumbled out the alley and was just thankin' me _over_  and _over_  because if I hadn't come and kicked that guy, Hanji would've gone through all sorts a pains. Somehow I ended up tellin' 'em 'bout my situation and then I got that kickin' job, 'came part of the Dead Men, and got this flapper dress that is downright _painful_ , I am changin' immediately once we reach where we're goin', by the way."

I bite my lip. Cool, I just done took some wooden nickles in front of the _only_ person willing to talk to me. When the hell am I gonna learn to close my gob?

"Uh. Sorry, I uh- got a little carried away." I look over to her, expecting an uninterested or annoyed look, but only find a gentle smile with eyes focused on the road.

"Don't worry about it. I find your voice to be the berries, honestly."

"Those words're a little tommy, ain't they?" Despite this supposed to be a joke, I couldn't keep the blush off my cheeks or the flattery out of my voice.

She just smiled more. Rather tender. "Guess so."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> idk how i feel abt this chapter..... but here u go
> 
> follow me ;0
> 
> thats my favorite emoticon btw. the ;0. its so cute and mysterious. like a saucy wink but.. a platonically saucy wink


	5. A couple of Dumb Doras on the lamb.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this one goes out to elaina.. 
> 
> i know that ruff feel waitin for a fic and i am sorry i caused this..

The next night, just on blade of Nevada's border, she and I stop off in a sleazy looking smoke shop to pick up some juice. Should be a fairly big haul- tobacco's a pretty good seller. The second we step foot through the entrance, the scent hits us hard and fast.

Nicotine is a constant scent in my life, I've noticed. A pretty consistent odor in the speakeasy, and this gal's always smoking a cigar. Everyday there's a lady with a ciggie and a man with a cigar walking up and down sidewalks, there's smokers in every corner store and packs of nicotine at every counter. Not that I particularly mind. Something about the musky scent of nicotine has always had me entranced; I love the smell of cigarettes. Yet I've never actually _smoked_  one. Maybe some sort of fear of breathing in smoke.

Well, I might as well smoke one- I'm already scared out of my mind.

While she's at the register picking up some juice, I grab a box of Marlboros.

I turn it over in my hand a couple times, considering. I mean, I've heard people find this stuff kind of hard to put down. Would it really be worth breezing through ten packs a day?

Well, not like I'll have any problems picking up packs so long as I'm with this kook of a girl.

"Hey, Doll, y'got any lights?" I say softly and look up at her. But instead of stuffing the bag in her left hand with dough from the register, she has a concentrated and alert face on, eyes looking in no particular direction. "What-"

She shushes me, and puts a sole finger up to tell me to stay quiet.

Now I'm not the best hearer in the world out there, let me tell you. But something about this setting made me hear the footsteps on the outside gravel clearer than summer sky.

As soon as I recognize the footsteps, I look over to her in a panic. There is one exit out this place, and oh so fortunately, it happens to be the only entrance too.

She notices my face, and puts her finger to her lips and motions with the same hand for me to come to her.

Box squished in my hand, I scurry to her quicker than I've ever been in my entire life. I almost have to brace myself on the counter.

"What do we do- what do we do?" I ask with panic, so quiet I'm surprised she heard it.

"Don't panic- just duck behind this counter, okay?" She squeezes my shoulder with her free hand, then lowers herself behind the counter.

I do the same, just in time as I hear the shop's bell ring as soon as I'm down.

"Hey, Dick? You in here?" A deep voice booms through the store. "You left the door unlocked, idiot."

It's dead quiet. Absolutely no noise at all except the pounding of my heart in my ears. I don't even realize I'm holding my breath until I start going blue.

"God, Dick, you're a fucking idiot." The voice whispers to itself. "What's with this idiot? Leaving his nice car in the front like that and leaving the door unlocked when he's not even here." The bell rings again, indicating the voice's retreat. It grows quieter as it gets farther. "Dumbass is gonna get robbed one day, swear to Jesus."

After a safe amount of time, the woman stands up straight again, and continues raiding the register as if nothing happened at all.

I stand up too, on shaky legs with my heart still pounding like mad. The box I'm holding is trashed, from me squeezing it so hard, and I lift a trembling hand to look at the crushed pack.

I don't even realize I'm laughing until the pretty girl puts a hand on my shoulder.

"You okay there?" She says with a smile on her face, and I put my free hand over my mouth to muffle my giggles.

I remove my hand and bite my lip, giddy. "That was downright ducky."

"You like that kind of stuff?" She raised a brow, amused.

Do I? Do I really like this kind of stuff?

I almost got arrested. I almost went to jail.

I'm here, robbing a ratty shop and rapidly turning into an owl with a girl I don't know, and I'm stealing, beginning to smoke. I'm stealing. I'm taking things that aren't mine, and I almost got caught and arrested.

And how do I feel?

I don't feel bad. I don't feel guilty and I don't regret it.

I feel happy.

"Well, what can I say?" I bring my fingers to my lips, feeling like I'll bite them out of pure adrenaline. "Guess I'm just a filthy criminal."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i keep writing really short chapters and its pissi,ng me ofF
> 
> ill try reaLLY HARD to make the next one longer i swear
> 
> follow me on tumblr anyway ;0

**Author's Note:**

> hi im gay and this sucked but itll probably get better dnt worry
> 
> go follow me on tumblr ;0
> 
> http://mikasasha.god.jp/  
> @memekasasha


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